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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Bad Medicine RP Boards 2022
Queen Rising: Parental Advisory
Author Message
Jenny Myst Offline
The Queen of X-Treme



XWF FanBase:
Very random

(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)


#1
11-25-2022, 09:24 PM

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"Mark, honey, is everything okay?"

Her voice called out from the bathroom.

His gaze never left the doll.

His wife's voice was almost static as she tried to talk over the pellets of the shower water hitting the tub below. It was almost like something was trying to hush her as the water rushed.


SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Mark?"

The hotel accommodations weren't bad, but it surely wasn't their home. Mark and Patricia had spent the majority of their time crying over memories while sifting through wreckage, trying to piece together some semblance of their old life and the jarring reality that they would have to begin a new one.

Mark lay on the bed while the television played a college basketball game in the background. Normally, he would be on the phone with bookies betting spreads and yelling at the screen if things weren't going his way. Today, however, he was quiet, his gaze fixed. Staring back at him was the doll the police officer had given him.

The water had stopped, but he didn't even notice. His focus was broken only by his wife's voice, much more clear now.


"Mark?!"

He shot her a look, standing there in just a towel around her body and one wrapped around her head.

"Yes, dear?"

"You didn't hear me calling you from the shower?"

He looked back at the doll--he could have sworn he saw it move out of the corner of his eye.

"Sorry.....I---I just----I threw that doll away, Patricia." 

"You what?"

"I threw the doll the officer gave us away. I couldn't bear to look at it anymore."

"Its right there...." she pointed at it. She had a knack for pointing out the obvious. Typical woman.

"I know.....earlier, when I went to the store to get us some food for tonight, I threw the doll out in the dumpster outside. I went to the store, I came back, and it was sitting there. Right there. On the nightstand. Looking at me."

Patricia paused for a second, then sighed. This entire ordeal had been very hard on her husband. She actually felt bad. With a sigh, she told him to hold on and went back into the bathroom to dry off and get changed.

Mark's gaze didn't break from the doll. Its eyes were empty, cold......judging. It blinked in the yard, earlier, why had it not blinked since?

WHY DIDN'T IT BLINK!

And why was it wearing that silver belt?!


WOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH  SPLAT

The window rattled as a bird flew directly into it. Mark didn't move. It was as though he was drawn into the tiny human-like object. He felt a connection to it.......but had never seen it before in his life.


WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH SPLAT

"Jesus Christ, Mark! What was that?! You didn't hear that?! It happened twice."


"Mark. You really need to snap out of this! Something just hit the damn window----" 

She grabbed the doll, maybe that would break the hold on him.

"AHH!" She dropped it. It was piping hot. There was a burn mark on the underside of her hand.

When it fell from her hand, it fell back into a sitting position on the nightstand. This time, however, its legs hung over the edge. They swung lightly from momentum, but soon stopped.

A little girl's giggle could be heard faintly in the hallway. The fire alarm then began to blare, as if someone pulled it. The sprinkler system kicked in.

The couple ran out of the room, into the hallway which was.....dry.

It was only their room that had the sprinklers turn on. The alarm blared again, and more hotel patrons were leaving their rooms. Mark and Patricia looked at each other, took a collective deep breath, then made their way to the stairwell.

After the fire department had cleared the building, guests started to file back in. As Mark and Patricia made their way back towards the back door entrance, they were stopped by the hotel manager and two security guards. With them were all of the couple's bags and belongings.


"You are in room 316, right?"

"Yes," Mark chimed up, "why? And why do you have all of our stuff?"

"We are going to have to ask that you leave the premises immediately and not return."

The couple was devastated, as expected.

"What?! Why?!" Patricia's voice cracked.

"Your entire room was trashed. Wrecked. Destroyed. We are going to have to replace every item in that room. Police are on their way." The manager dropped their luggage at their feet. He handed Mark the doll from the room.

"NO! We did not do this! You don't understand! It was this.....thing."

The manager didn't look amused. It was November. Halloween was long over.

"We were just in a fire...where will we go?!"

"There are plenty of hotels in town, ma'am. I recommend you don't trash those."

"We spent the last of our money to book an extended room here."

"That is not our problem anymore."

Three squad cars pulled up. In Mark's hand, the doll smiled, but he didn't notice it.



Several hours later.

Mark and Patricia sat in their car, ready to enter their third hotel of the night. There was NO VACANCY anywhere this time of year. They were lucky to have found the one they had then--well--they didn't even know what happened. Someone, something, sabotaged them. 

It was late, cold out, and they didn't have enough gas to try their luck in the next town over. The police had questioned them extensively, but in the end had let them go. An older couple, who was clearly outside and had not been in the room for all that long, could not have accounted for THAT much damage. They were, however, not entitled to a refund.

Their house, gone. Their money, gone. Their entire way of life, upside down. They both sat, listening to the car idol, in silence. On the dashboard, looking back at them was the doll.

Its face illuminated by the red
 HILTON glow, they stared back at the blonde girl.

The officers voice from the day before played through their minds.


"I am sorry," the officer said. "This is the only thing that made it out. I assume it belongs to your daughter?"

They hadn't heard about their daughter for so long, they just told people they didn't have one. She went missing in her early teens. She was last seen at school, but never went back. Her parents had told the teachers, press, media, everyone in ear shot that she had not returned home either. An investigation was opened, but nothing ever came of it. It soon became a cold case, and they moved on with their lives. They never even had a funeral for her.

Just when they were about to get out of the car and give this hotel a try, Mark's cell phone rang. It was a number they didn't recognize. Figuring they had nothing to lose, and it was worth a shot (hey, maybe it was a hotel calling them back with vacancy, right?) he answered.


"Hello?"

The voice on the other line almost made him drop the phone.

"Dad?"

He immediately put the phone on speaker. Patricia had a tear in her eye. This voice was their daughter, now an adult.

Their eyes went wide in horror, neither of them could speak.

"Mom?"

They listen in fear, frozen, eyes wide. Mark's hand shook. They knew right then who this was, what it was, why it was happening.

........because  they killed their daughter that dark night years ago.

On the dashboard, the doll with the shiny belt blinked again.

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"So this is the level we're gonna stoop too, hmm? You're so fucking pathetic I can't even stand it. Great, you won a match that I was in, fantastic. But before you posture some more and puff your chest out like you mean something to anyone, let me remind everyone that the match you highlighted......you didn't pin ME. You are proud of pinning a bitch who wasn't even talented enough to survive on Anarchy and trying to throw it out there like some golden star on the refrigerator, so desperate for a pat on the back. She had four names, one for each match she had here. Bragging about beating her is like bragging about beating a child in a pick up game.

I made you bleed in that match and you treat it like it was some big deal.....you're in for a rude awakening this weekend. You think a nose bleed is bad? Your vagina may be bigger than Atara's....and that bitch has fucked EVERYONE.

The wrestling gods aren't assholes, Lux. I think you slept on me like everyone else and I opened your eyes to just who the fuck I am. You wanna brag about a match you won back in APRIL, you do you booboo, but come Sunday you're gonna be looking back on this extreme title match and do what you always do: make excuses. You telling me I didn't deserve to win a title when I am the one who scored the pinfall but you bragging about a match seven months ago in a match where you didn't even pin me is the epitome of why you haven't, and never will be, successful in this business.

You wanna get down to brass tacks? Be real with you for a hot second?

I don't respect you, and its not even because of your accomplishments (or lack thereof) in the ring, it is because you don't respect yourself. You don't have the killer instinct you need to survive in this business. Lecturing me about being "too mean" to these cheap-shot artists who aren't trying to win this belt to be champion but rather to win it because they get the chance to take it off of ME and that is amusing to them. This title means the world to me, and if I didn't get upset by people trying to take this title then I wouldn't have any passion, any drive, any will to win. I'd be like...well...you.

Madison Dyson, who was by far my biggest nemesis during my Bombshell and Shooting Star title runs, had one of the most soul crushing and creative insults towards me I have ever heard. She called me a 'window licking real doll'. You called me a big meanie for having some sharp words for people who are trying to take my livelihood from me. Do you see why you're a bitch now? Get creative for god sakes! Madison wasn't just sharp tongued, but she was one of the most brutal competitors I have ever stepped into the ring with. There is no level she wouldn't stoop to in order to get a win. I had to elevate my game and get just as vicious and mean spirited as she did....and I ended up overcoming Madison and putting that dog down. You would rather lecture me on my manners than understand that when you're a champion and competing at a championship level, you have to kick it into another gear.

You wouldn't know much about that, would ya?


In XWF:
12-9-1
0-3 in PPVs
0-2 in Title Shots

You're a chump, will always be a chump, and on Sunday I am going to crack that bald head of yours like an egg. Anything and everything is legal and you best believe that an environment like that favors the Queen. I will retain what is truly mine and you'll go back to wrestling part time and reminiscing about your glory days in the OCW D-League.

Go back to sucking Goth's balls and telling him how good he is and how he deserves this. While you're at it, have him tell you one of his ghost stories while sucking your thumb......trust me, it'll put you right to sleep, its worked with everyone else so far! Everything I do, I do it better than you on my worst fucking day. You're in over your head.


Speaking of idiots who don't know when they're in over their heads, we have the XWF's Eeyore.


I just know you have a cheap notebook full of poorly written, angsty poetry! I just KNOW it. I've heard you promo's and it cant be any worse than Lux's V for Vendetta rip off.

God he sucks so bad....

Yours suck in a different way.......

You had your moment in the light, Gerrit. You had a chance to say some enlightening shit, to make me look stupid, to boost your name in the public light and get people excited about the violence you may inflict upon me at Bad Medicine to take this title. What did you chose to go with? That you respect women wrestlers, then listed off how many you've beaten. Then talked about how women can do just as much damage as men.....

You're asshole still sore from that Themis designer boot?

You could have said any outlandish claim about me in the English language and you chose to give us an equal rights lecture on how women can fight just as well as men, and then went on to call me an 'opportunist'. I am not an opportunist, I am just better than the competition. That includes you, if you wanna call your recent failures "competition". Or competitive. Or anything but lackluster and embarrassing. You may have faced several women in the past, but you've never faced THIS woman. I am not like the rest of these do nothing cock holsters you've sparred with in the past. You are still being haunted by Elizabeth Ashe from like 15 fucking years ago. Clearly wrestling women has had an impact on you. When I am done with you, your nightmares about this Ashe cunt will seem like wet dreams. You are caught up in the past, and I’m going to violently shove you into the present. It’s clear you have suffered from some mental trauma and maybe it stems from the death of your wife…

Stop living in the past. It affected you, we get it, stop making it our problem. It is every single promo. It’s not a good look for your supposedly harrowing gimmick. You just sound like a petulant child. Do you think your wife would want to see you like this? Even if you had a time machine, went back in the past, and brought the little wench back she would leave you anyway because it would disgust her to see how much of a no confidence bitch boy you've become. You should be glad she's dead, use it as motivation, and not be a monotone unmotivated slug that tailors his entire life around trying to impress a spirit of a woman who hates him anyway.

That's your problem, you're stuck in the past. So focused on what you were that you have lost sight of what you could become. This Sunday will be a wakeup call for you."


Jenny was about to finish off Gerrit, when a facetime request came through her iPhone. "Clyde".

She answered and we see a rainy, windy day with dead trees surrounding what looks to be a cemetary. Chris Chaos brings the phone up to view. He has on a beater and sweat pants, his formerly white top stained to an tannish grey.


"So I am at this Trinity Cemetery. Is this what you wanted?"

"Lemme see the head stone."

"Gotta make this quick Jen, I have to catch a plane to Kansas City to wreck Raion Kido's life more than he already has."

The headstone comes into view, its Goth's wife.

"Yep, that's it! Okay so you have it?"

Chris propped the phone against a nearby tree. We see him step back and reach into a large burlap bag. He pulls out the decapitated head of a horse, painted to look like a Unicorn.

"UMMMMM babe that's a fucking horse! His wife's favorite animal was a unicorn! I told you to get a Unicorn head!"

"Unicorns are fake, just like this Goth guy's entire persona...."

He hauls the large head up and over to the freshly dug up grave. Rain began to fall on the cemetery.

Reaching into the bag again he pulls out one of Jenny's sex toys. He shoves the dildo up into the severed neck of the Uni-horse.


"Here's what I think of his wife's fucking unicorn."

He drops the heavy head into the grave. A dull thud can be heard as it makes contact with the coffin.

He looks back at the phone. "We done here? I gotta get to JFK."

Jenny giggles to herself. "Maybe he shoulda cremated the little witch. You live and you learn."

They exchange goodbyes before the facetime cuts.

"I am going to make you two losers suffer. It is never easy to beat two people at one time, but I am more ready for a match of this magnitude than I've ever been before. This is Pay Per View, this is the big leagues, the biggest and brightest stage. Ever since Leap of Faith I have been on fire on Pay Per View, and nothing changes at Bad Medicine. There is nothing I won't do to retain this prize, and if the two of you want to pry this title from me....its simple....you're gonna have to kill me. Personally, I don't think either of you have got the stones. The man who calls himself "GOTH" but looks more like the creepy guy who hangs around CVS at night because got banned from buying over-the-counter drugs so he offers people sexual favors for Sudafed and the man who calls himself "Venom". An aspiring villain, Dr. Evil's autistic younger brother, who always seem to drop the ball every single time its thrown his way.

I am going to teach you both a lesson in brutality, and maybe when its all said and done and I am holding MY title above my head, you'll understand just who puts the X in XWF."


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 3x
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FORMER, 1x AND LONGEST REIGNING (101 Days)
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FOREVER AND ALWAYS
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2x
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2x XWF Bombshell Champion
3x XWF X-Treme Champion
3x XWF Television Champion
X- Title Briefcase Holder
War Games Captain 
Sex, Metal, Barbie, CHAOS
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